Secret
by textbooknarcissism
Summary: Sam and Dean are on a case, and Dean neglects to call Sam for awhile. Sam finds him at a club and decides he, too, deserves a little fun. Sam/Dean, Wincest.
1. Chapter 1

"Hi, yeah, I need to track my son's cell phone, please," Sam spoke into his own cell trying not to sound irritated, "Yeah he went to a Backstreet Boys concert and hasn't gotten a hold of me yet. Yeah, yeah, so I'm a little worried."

They were working a job and Dean was supposed to be doing some research and then getting a hold of Sam, but that was about four hours ago and now Dean wasn't answering his phone. So Sam called their service provider to find out where Dean was. He listened to the person helping him on the other end of the line as they told him where his 'son' was.

"2157 52nd Avenue? Great, thanks so much," Sam flipped his cell phone shut, grabbed his coat, and exited their hotel room to find a car to hotwire.

When Sam arrived at 2157 52nd Avenue, it wasn't somewhere he thought Dean would be.

It was a club.

Dean was at a club.

And the club was called _Head_.

Sure, Dean liked to party, but Sam had never known him to be the club type. Especially.. This type. It was grungy and stretched out over a large piece of land, and even had some people dancing outside. Sam parked the car he had stolen, and as he stepped out of it, a group of people ran by screaming and covered in neon paint.

"This cannot possibly have anything to do with the case," Sam muttered to himself as he put his hands in his pockets and walked into the party.

The music was overwhelmingly loud, everyone was dancing, and Sam could have sworn one of the DJs bared a striking resemblance to Tiesto. He wandered up to the bar, deciding there was no chance of finding Dean in the crowd of dancers, so he would wait until Dean needed a drink. But that was unnecessary because Dean was already at the bar; of course he'd be the only one in a leather jacket.

Sam stood behind Dean and watched as his brother did six shots of God knows what in a row. He cleared his throat and Dean turned around with a grin.

"Sammy! It's about time you got here, you've been missing all the fun."

"Yeah, that's great Dean, but weren't you supposed to be working on a case?" Sam sighed.

Dean picked up a smoke from beside him and lit it.

"Dean is that - Are you - Are you smoking pot?" Sam could not believe his eyes. He knew Dean had done drugs in high school, but had seen nothing of them ever since. Dean nodded, before letting the smoke out of his lungs.

"Yup."

"Where did you even get pot?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Guy at the liquor store," Dean replied, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Of course," Sam sighed, "so about the case?"

"I solved it," Dean coughed.

"What?"

"I solved the case."

"How?"

"It was all a fake. These kids were bored and blah blah blah. Long story short, we were duped, so now we party," Dean grinned as he took another breath of the joint.

"Yeah, about that, I don't think this is such a good idea, Dean," Sam said quietly, looking around at all the drunk and drugged people.

"Oh come on Sammy, we're here, we might as well have some fun. How often do we get a night off, huh?" Dean held the smoke out to Sam. He looked at Sam with puppydog eyes that Sam had never seen him use before, and he gave in. He took the smoke from Dean's hand, and Dean quickly ordered another round of shots as Sam inhaled and quickly exhaled; practically coughing up a lung in the process of trying to breathe air again.

He didn't look at Dean as he took in another two breaths of the joint, and when he did look back at Dean, he was eating mushrooms that some girl had just offered him. When his hand went back for more, Sam smacked it away and handed him back the smoke. Dean breathed it in one last time before extinguishing it on the counter of the bar.

"Dean, no shrooms, seriously. The pot is bad enough, but shrooms? No."

Dean frowned and said goodbye to the girl before turning back to Sam.

"I gotta say, Sammy, I'm proud of you," Dean said as he pushed two shots across the bar to Sam. He held one up in the air. "Cheers."

Sam was about to frown, but stopped. What the hell, let them have some fun. They could die any day, and they never get to party.

"Cheers," Sam smiled, clinking his glass against Dean's before downing it and his other shot. Dean did the same, and together they finished a round of twelve. And Sam had to admit - he was not a lightweight, but he was beginning to feel a bit dizzy.

Sam blinked a few times, before realizing he had been staring absentmindedly into the crowd. But when he turned back to his brother, Dean was staring at him with wide eyes. Dean slowly reached out and began petting Sam's chest. All Sam could do was just look down and watch whatever the hell Dean was doing.

"Why are you so soft?" Dean whispered.

"Uh, I don't think I am. That's the shrooms talking," Sam said pointedly.

"You're crazy soft. What shrooms?" If possible, Dean's eyes got even wider as he was still petting and feeling Sam.

"Nevermind," Sam sighed.

A new song started blasting and Dean was suddenly alert as ever.

"Sam," he tugged on Sam's arm, "Sam!"

"What?"

"Sam, I love this song! I need to go dance," Dean grinned and bounced excitedly on his seat. Sam just stared.

"You don't dance," Sam said slowly, "You don't even like techno."

"Of course I do," Dean moved his arms around in a dancing motion, "which is why we need to go dance."

He stood up and all but ran in the direction of the mosh pit of dancing people. He waited near it before waving at Sam to follow him, before disappearing in the crowd. Sam sighed, smiled, and followed him.

He found Dean in practically the middle of the crowd, doing dance moves he never thought he'd see his brother do. It was almost embarrassing.

"Well don't just stand there," Dean grinned, before spinning around and continuing to move with the music.

Sam was about to do his thing: sigh and refuse, but he realized that he knew the song. It was a techno remix of Uhn Tiss Uhn Tiss by The Bloodhound Gang.

"This isn't club music," he said to no one.

"Who cares? It's awesome!" Dean shouted, still dancing.

And Sam couldn't help it, he was dancing too. At first it was just him, moving by himself without the world, to that one beat. But then it was him and Dean, and no one else. Dean never stopped smiling, and Sam couldn't help but smile and laugh too. Him and Dean both slowly moved closer to each other, and all Sam was aware of was how sweaty he was. Until Dean started grinding against him.

Then that was pretty much all he focused on.

Sam didn't stop dancing, even if the rational part of his brain told him everything about this situation was bad and weird. The rest of his brain kind of liked it. And before he even really comprehended it, he was grinding back against Dean.

And neither of them seemed to mind.

It was just them, it was fine, they were just brothers having a good time. But the song came to a slow, and they both faced each other, just a little too close. Dean just stared at Sam, and for a split second Sam could have sworn that he moved closer. Sam could feel Dean's breath on his face. And then rational Sam kicked back into action.

"We should um, go back to the Hotel," Sam said quietly, trying to slowly edge backwards away from Dean.

"Yeah, yeah, let's go," Dean nodded and smiled, following Sam out of the crowd, out of the building, and to where the vehicles were parked. Dean lead them to the Impala, but held the keys out to Sam.

"D'you think you could - "

"Yup, no problem," Sam said, grabbing the keys and getting into the driver's seat, as Dean got in beside him.

The drive back to the Hotel was very awkward. Not many words were said other than "fun time," "yeah," and "good day." The rest was all awkward looks and smiles and silence, until Dean turned on the radio and began singing loudly to Thunderstruck by ACDC. And Sam wasn't annoyed by it; he was happy that Dean was happy. But Dean was probably only happy because he was admittedly very drunk and very high.

But that was okay.

When they arrived back at the Hotel, the first thing Dean did was go for some water.

"Where do we keep the water bottles in this place?" Dean asked, as Sam took his jacket off.

"Uhh, check the counter, I think there's one or two left."

Dean walked over to the counter, grabbed a bottle of water, and began chugging it back like there was no tomorrow. And they were both higher than a kite - seriously what the hell was in that joint - but Sam just watched as Dean drank the water. And Sam couldn't lie - On the drive home he couldn't stop thinking about Dean's lips; how close they were to his own.

And he almost wished they had kissed back there.

So Sam watched the way Dean's lips wrapped around that water bottle, and decided he would rather have those lips on his own. He all but ran towards Dean and pushed him up against the wall; the water bottle forgotten as it slowly dripped out onto the floor. Neither of them said anything, and they just stayed that way for what seemed like it could have been hours, looking into each others eyes, until Sam crashed his lips onto Dean's. And even though he was expecting Dean to fight it, he didn't.

Dean smiled into Sam's mouth and ran his hands down Sam's chest; putting two of his fingers inside the waistband of Sam's boxers. Sam lifted Dean's shirt over his head and began pulling them backwards to one of the beds. Dean started undoing Sam's jeans, and when Dean pushed Sam onto the bed, Sam finished the job for him. Dean climbed on top, and Sam propped him up between God and himself; preparing to spend the rest of the night however they wanted.

They twisted their bodies together in the mess of blankets and sheets and clothing strewn everywhere, and the sun set over the city; leaving a gleam of light coming through one crack of the blinds, signifying the beginning of the night.

...

**A/N: These are the kinds of things that my beta and I talk about, and then they form in my head and I have to write them, no matter how shitty it turns out. And please, if you don't like Wincest don't read it :c **


	2. Chapter 2

The morning was brutal.

Dean opened his eyes and squinted at the sight of that one stream of sunlight. He swung his legs out of bed and groaned at the movement - his head really hurt. After a minute of steadying himself from the dizziness, he got up and tampered with the blinds so they would close all the way. Satisfied, he marched back to bed but stopped before he actually got into it.

Sam was in his bed, shirtless, as far as Dean could tell, laying on his stomach with his head facing away from Dean.

"Dude, why are you in my bed?" He said groggily, rubbing one of his eyes. And when Sam didn't respond, Dean leaned over the bed and jabbed him in the shoulder. His shoulder twitched briefly at the contact, but he didn't wake up. Dean sighed and turned around to get in the other bed, curling up under the covers and twisting his feet to momentarily make them warmer.

And then about three hours later, Dean woke up.

"Dean, get up," the voice was slightly muffled from where Dean lay underneath the blankets, but all the same it was Sam.

He poked his head out from under the covers and squinted at Sam; who was surprisingly already dressed and packed to leave. Sam had apparently opened the blinds because the sun was shining full throttle into Dean's eyes and he had to hold his hand up to the side of his face to shield the light.

"What are you doing up? It's like - " Dean paused to look at the clock beside him "- twelve thirty, holy shit it's noon."

"Yeah, so get up. I found another job, and it's pretty far," Sam walked over to Dean's bed and tried to pull the covers off of him, but Dean held on to them tightly. And when his efforts were unsuccessful, Sam gave up and walked back over to where his bag sat at the end of his bed.

When Dean knew it was safe, he poked his head out from under the covers once more and looked at Sam.

"Hey Sammy, why were you in my bed? I thought we had an agreement that I always get the bed on the right side of the room?" Dean yawned, finally sitting up in bed and stretching with his arms over his head.

Sam half smiled and scoffed at the same time.

"You didn't seem to mind much who was in what bed last night, Dean."

Oh yeah, last night. Dean frowned and squinted his eyes a little as he tried to remember something - anything, really - from the previous night. And he did, but he thought there was something missing. He remembered solving the fake case they were led to, going to the club, Sam showing up, them drinking together, and then going back to the hotel.

Unless his brain was totally leaving something out.

He shrugged, pulled back the covers, and made his way to the bathroom; and as he did, he couldn't help but feel as though Sam's gaze was following him as he went.

So it was about one fourty nine by the time they finally checked out of the hotel and pulled into a gas station to fuel up and grab some caffeine. Dean wore his sunglasses as he filled up the Impala, leaning against her when he was done, and Sam came out bearing a plastic bag of food and only one cup of coffee. And after Sam took a sip from the styrofoam cup, he handed it to Dean.

Dean did not question why Sam only got one cup of coffee.

He finished the rest of the coffee and threw the cup on the ground. Sam looked at Dean, tired and hungover, and laughed.

"What's funny?" Dean said, crossing his arms and looking at Sam like he was crazy.

Sam continued to laugh but just waved his hand at Dean.

"What am I missing?"

"Nothing, Dean. Really," Sam smiled.

Dean settled back against the Impala, and Sam just stood beside him; one hand in his pocket, the other holding the plastic bag of food. Neither of them said anything, until Dean stood up and faced Sam with his arms crossed.

"Sam, did I do anything stupid last night?"

Sam studied Dean, and memories of the previous night came back into his mind. He thought of telling Dean, but the last thing he wanted was for Dean to freak out and never speak to him again; because that was just how Dean reacted to these kinds of things. Sam opened his mouth, and almost got the words out, but stopped.

"Nope, nothing out of the ordinary," Sam shrugged.

Dean nodded, and walked around the Impala and got into the driver's seat; Sam following suit with the passenger side. And Sam had silently decided to just never mention that night ever again.

But what he didn't know was that Dean wouldn't be appalled or horrified; nothing of the sort.

Because Dean secretly steals glances at Sam, and is honestly surprised that Sam hasn't noticed yet; he doesn't try to make it subtle. He watches how Sam's shirt rides up when he stretches, and the way his lips look wrapped around a beer bottle.

But neither of them would ever mention anything. These would just become secrets locked away deep inside, never to be brought up again.

They drive away from the gas station, heading for some tiny town in the middle of nowhere to save people like they always do; the sun glinting on the hood of the Impala as it heads down the road.

...

**A/N: So yeah, the only thing I like about this is how it ended - it wasn't happy, and they'll never be happy. **


End file.
